Substituting

It is just one of those days... My day always starts out good, but things have the ability to really digress from there. I had a great workout with my comrade, Daniel, and the staff meeting wasn't too bad, but then things just kind of shifted from there.

I'm substituting two classes for one of the SM's this week because she is off traveling the country with her family and it has made things slightly stressful. I have three classes with my 10th graders and I'm not going to lie for one second that they are the class that takes the most energy. They are smart, talented, obnoxious, half are disrespectful, and most annoyingly they don't really care about too much. They love to push the limits as far as they can and test me constantly. I'm not going to deny that they are a giant pain in the butt at times.

Today was one of those times. I started by teaching them Physical Science (one of the classes I'm substituting) and the first they did was try to see if I would make them sit in their assigned seats. Naturally, I did and the whole usual river of crap started coming out of their mouths, "but Ms. Bethany lets us sit where we want." I replied, "Really? Wow, that's funny that she gave me a seating chart." Nothing, but silence.

Then I told them to start their homework and 1/4 of them came up to me and said, "We need to go get our books." I said, "OK but I have to mark you tardy." Then the river started flowing again, "But Ms. Bethany lets us go and get our books when we want." "Hmmm... that's a crazy coincidence guys, but it says on the substitute sheet that I should mark you tardy. Crazy! How did that happen guys?" Once again they shut up.

Then they started the homework and they said, "Mr. what are the assigned problems." I looked at my sub directions and found their were no assigned problems, FUN! Then there was a sentence beneath it, "they will know what problems to do, tell them it is the normal assignment." So I said confidently, "Do the normal assignment." Blank stares. "But Mr what is zhe assignment are we zuppozed to do?" (they always pronounce their th's and s's as zuhh's). Now is where the survival mode kicked in. Adapt, improvise, and overcome. So I looked at the book and chose a set of problems from the review that looked interesting to me and wrote them on the board.

They were quite for a time and did there work, but then the class started to wind down. So I said, "OK guys your assignments are due now." The river began again, "But Mr they aren't due until tomorrow." I checked the sheet and what did ya know, "Do at the end of class." I made a quick decision to let them keep them until tomorrow because I had no idea what the problem set was actually supposed to be like.

I look at this and think to myself that was a crappy day of classes. I've been pretty flippin' cranky throughout my classes because I'm tired of all the crap! That isn't how it should be though. They should not dictate my emotions or my actions. I want to be firm with them but at the same time I want to be personal and have the chance to connect with them. Time to reevaluate though....

The lesson I learned today:#1 If you are substituting or having a sub, then give exact directions!
#2- Don't let my students run me. I'm the Captain of this Ship! I got that from Tom Hewson, thanks Coach.

Controlling Anger

Today was, once again, another interesting day. I started my day off with the normal run in the morning and things were going pretty fine until staff meeting. We got there and started going over the normal topics and then the boys dean brought up the topic of one of the students, Simon, who has been staying with his brother in the villa next door because he broke his leg two months ago and he didn't want to have to make the daily two hour trip to the school with crutches. It turns out that Simon is also the most responsible kid in grade 10 and arguably one of the most responsible kids in the school. You can probably tell that, as a teacher, I love him.

So as the dean was going off on how he needed to go home, I interjected and said, "we should find a way for him to be here and what is the problem with him living there right now? He's a responsible kid and he's not causing any trouble living there."

The dean then brought up an off-topic argument, "well there are other students who want to live there and he shouldn't be allowed to." So I said, "well, we should at least make a spot for him in the dorm when we move another student there if we are going to kick him out of villa 3."

He then responded, "No we can't do that. I talked to him and he doesn't want to live in the dorms."

At this point I was getting mad, because he was clearly lying and was trying to deceive the principal into making Simon go home. I obviously didn't want that because I wouldn't want to travel four hours everyday and so I indignantly inquired of the dean, "When did he say that?"

He replied, "Oh... Just the other day." So I pressed him again and said, "When? Because I just talked to him yesterday and he said he REALLY wants to live here and has wanted to live here for awhile."

At this point the Principal interjected and stated that the students shouldn't be talking to me about this, but the dean or him. I was feeling pretty angry about this because I was just trying to make sure he didn't get unfairly sent back to being a day student. Dwight, the Principal, was right, the students should be talking to him about this.

The staff meeting ended shortly after and I sat there in the staff room ANGRY. I honestly felt like decking the dean in the face. I realized that if I didn't get a handle on my emotions then I was going to be angry and would probably lash out at one of my students. I remembered my Mom telling me that "It is your choice if you are going to be angry. You don't have to be angry. You are the only one who is in control of your emotions."

As the day went on, I'll be honest that at times it was really difficult to control my emotions. I found myself wanting to let my anger go on my students, but I had to keep reminding myself that it was my choice to be angry. Anger isn't a bad thing, but it is dangerous if it isn't controlled and channeled in the right direction.

I'm realizing that I have to get up the "kahuna's" and have a showdown with the dean one on one or I'm going to have animosity towards him. I know he will feel it, too, because I'm not very kind to people I GENUINELY dislike (and I'm getting there). I struggle to have and show respect for them. I don't want that because that will continue to make it an up-hill battle to control my anger every morning in staff meeting whenever he speaks and that will take our teaching team nowhere desirable. I can't let cowardice take hold by sitting idly on my anger, I have to solve the situation. Be that by decking him the face (kidding) or discussing the problem with him as grown men. "Be of good courage."

Speaking and Not Speaking

I had an interesting experience this weekend. I'm on the school's "Ministry Team" and we go on trips to the Adventist churches throughout Egypt. The trips are interesting, but they are always kind of awkward because I don't really know what to say at times. We usually spend the night at a locals house and it's not too bad there because I have the chance to talk with the people through one of the students.

I'm frustrated with the situation because the students always give me the, "oh come Mr. Eric, we don't want to translate for you." I'll be honest that it's a little bit offensive to me because I'm doing my best to show interest in these people and the students just have this attitude of "who cares" and then when I try to at least show my appreciation to our hosts they get upset with me for asking them to translate. So basically for this weekend I didn't really talk too much. The staff and the students alike talked to each other in Arabic 95% of the time. The 5% was when I would ask a question of them to be conversational and then they would reply with a brief answer. To be honest with you I felt kind of excluded this weekend. The team leader, Pastor Isaac, gave most of the information out in Arabic and I just kind of sat there going, "Huh?" The sermon was in Arabic and the Sabbath School was in Arabic. The Vespers was in Arabic. The jokes on the bus were in Arabic.

I guess when I look at the whole thing optimistically it really wasn't that bad of a weekend. I learned to be less concerned about having the pressure to show people I care about them by being conversational and for the first time in a VERY long time I just sat back and didn't say anything. I tried to start a conversation or two, but they would always end so I decided "OK" I'm going to learn to be comfortable with not talking. It was good for me! I picked up what I could from their conversations in Arabic to train myself to listen for the vocabulary and then I completely ignored everything and wrote in my journal. It was good for me to realize that I don't have to feel a lack of confidence if I'm not in charge of the pace of a conversation. I was at peace to just sit back and not take part. It was definitely a situation where I felt "out of my comfort zone" and it was a little bit painful at first, but then I just settled into it and relaxed. The world continued on without me intervening and keeping conversation going. It was really good, awkward at first, but still good.

It's funny to me, I feel as though there is a piece of my extroverted side dying as I think about the course of this weekend. I think it comes down to I know I that I can usually carry a conversation confidently, but can I just sit back and not do anything and still feel confident? I don't have to be the conversationalist to be confident. This is a new concept for me because all of the people I've looked up to have always been such conversationalists, but they were also OK with themselves when they weren't talking. I haven't really realized this until now. I don't have to be included in a conversation to feel confident and I don't have to control a conversation to feel comfortable. Ah, life is good and, even though I'm getting fed up with Egyptians, being in Egypt is good.

Only Today

I'm starting to understand that song "Father God just for today, Help me walk your narrow way..." Everything I do here, I just try to take it one day at a time. It's easy to stay focused and to get stuff done that way. Life here doesn't seem so tragically overwhelming when I look at it through the scope of "just today."

I've started praying for God to just help me to have the victory for today. I'm starting to care less about tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, I'm still planning like all get out, but I'm not going to let it worry me so much anymore. Today is all I've been given. I ask myself, "What do I really want to do today?" There's a lot of things that come to mind and I say, "Can I do that today?" If it is plausible and ethical, then I'm going to try to do it today.

Tomorrow isn't guaranteed. If there is one thing that I learned from flipping in a car at 70 mph, it is that life isn't guaranteed. I was driving along thinking about how excited I was to go to Heather's house and then BAMMM I was swerving off the road and then the next thing I knew, the car was rolling. I remember rolling and thinking, "Crap, we're flipping. This isn't good." I don't remember anything else from my thoughts for the next few minutes because I was unconscious. It's funny to think that those could've been my last thoughts. My last words would've been "Oh S#$t". Yes, it's true. I was in fact swearing when the car started to swerve. Life is so fragile and in that fact, so is tomorrow. I feel like an emotional hippy writing this, but all we have is today. I still think we should be responsible for tomorrow, but today should definitely be made worthwhile because it is truly all we have.

And so my mantra is changing from the theme of quit thinking about what a perfect person I should be, right now, and just do what I can to be that kind of person for today. The ideal of what type of person I should be, shouldn't make me hate myself for today. All I can do is to ask God for the victory of today and then do what I can to see that victory accomplished.

Teaching

Today has been an interesting day for me. I have been busy for the past five hours recording scores, writing notes to students for the close of the quarter, and making lesson plans for next quarter. I've always thought that this would be the thing that I would dread most if I was to become a teacher, but I'm honestly enjoying making these lesson plans and getting all of my stuff organized. I'm realizing that I REALLY like to be organized! Most of the time I'm just to lazy to put forth the effort to arise to my perfectionist ideals as to how something should be organized, so I usually end up just winging it. The funny thing is that I am honestly enjoying getting doing this stuff! I will probably say that a few more times before I'm done writing this because I'm pretty darn shocked.

It's making me think more and more as to whether or not I want to be a teacher. I have never given teaching more of a consideration than I am right now. I love teaching in the classroom, especially when I'm prepared, and I find myself liking teaching more. The more classes that I teach, the better I want to be at what I'm teaching. I hate it when half my class isn't understanding something in Algebra and it gives me the incentive to really take the time to look over my lesson plans so I can help them get it.

I've always enjoyed people's company and talking, but if there is one where I thrive- it is when I can help somebody grow. I have had so many teachers who have shaped who I am and I in turn want to give back to society by helping shape kid's lives. I was a little bit unsure as to how to deal with these kids when I first got here because I wasn't sure of the culture. After about the 3rd or 4th week I realized that they are just kids and they have the same emotions, insecurities, and hormones flowing through them as every other high school student does.

When I was teaching the 9th grade Vocab class the other day I remembered the chaotic gamut of emotions when I was 15. I don't know why it came up, but when it did I just laughed to myself and suddenly all of my students looked so much different to me. The crazy Sudanese girl who is always so standoffish and straight up rude became a girl who is insecure and needs approval. The Egyptian boy, Shenouda, who is always disrupting my class turned into a kid who isn't getting enough attention at home and needs people to recognize him.

I'm realizing, as the time passes, that I'm becoming an important person to many of my students. I know that I have the power to shape them and mold them into better people. I see that I have the opportunity to help them become more self-assured. I have the chance to show them that there is someone who cares about them. I'm beginning to understand that teaching might be what I'm supposed to do with my life. As I'm writing this, there is a flood of thoughts and doubts running through my head of, "are you sure?!"

I've had many good teachers in my educational career and I can say that I've also learned what makes a good teacher and a bad teacher. I enjoy teaching and that is something that everyone of my good teachers had, they enjoyed what they taught. Often times a teacher will sometimes just enjoy the subject that they teach and they might not have the personality for it, but I think I have the personality of a teacher. I'm patient, creative, understanding, analytical, and sometimes I have a sense of humor.

I'm still quite a kid at heart and I think that is something that is needed to connect with kids. I think that is the most important thing a teacher does is to connect with their students. Two of my favorite profs at WWU were Gary Wiss and Tom Thompson. They were in their 70's, but they had they were still kids at heart. They were really hyperactive and I would've never guessed they were in their 70's if they hadn't told me so. They were happy because they were livning a truly fulfilled life. I feel pretty fulfilled being here. Maybe I am supposed to be a teacher... Time will tell all and one thing is for sure, this day will stand out in my memory as a day of an enlightenment. I've had an epiphany as to one of the things I KNOW that I'd like to do with my life.

Religion: Deciding the Way People Think Since Man's Existence?

I'm still trying to get to the top of one of the minarets here in Cairo, but the clerics are always pretty negative towards me. I guess I should've realized that one because newsflash, "I'm American!" Sometimes the loud speaker will go on about how one day they will crush the infidels (Israeli's and Americans) and it's interesting to me. Islam seems like such a pathetic thinking process, it discourages any understanding, and states that the people should only memorize the texts of the Qu'ran and then babble them off. Muslim means "one who submits", it seems more like "one who doesn't think". I've met some really good Muslim people so far and they, obviously, don't fit into this category. But I think Islam kind of prevents the culture from moving forward. How can you progress when the people are constantly being taught to NOT think for themselves?! It spreads to the whole culture, too. That's the sick part. Even the Christians in this country are affected by Islams cultural impact on the treatment of women, customs, etc. In Upper Egypt Orthodox women aren't allowed to go outside, unless they are with their husband. That's ridiculous! It isn't an Orthodox belief, but it is a Muslim belief and the Orthodox adhere to it. It won't change any time soon either because "why?" is a question that shouldn't be asked in Upper Egypt.

Egypt has been really good to me and for me. It has forced me to confront the way that I want to think and the beliefs I want to carry with me. People believe very strongly what they believe and they're zealous about it. Through conversations, I've discovered that many don't know why they believe what they believe, but their beliefs are very important to them. The culture demands people to treat their religion as their honor. They are Orthodox or Muslim because their family is Orthodox or Muslim. The honor of their family is important to them and so they follow their religion, well at least at face value, very closely. This ends up dwarfing personality and thinking, but it makes for a very committed, loyal, and pretty honorable person.

I want to be committed to a system of right and wrong, my family, and freedom in thinking. I've become a heck of a lot more patriotic by being here! The USA stands for these things, for the most part. So does the Adventist religion and so, once again, I feel that I've become more of an Adventist. Adventism, as a belief system, is the only religion that demands looking at the Bible honestly and to think about it legitimately. Since the Bible seems like the only book that is without holes, I want to adhere to it. I want to think and be open minded. To look at something and logically prove, or disprove, it. I've been reading up on Islam and it is like a bucket that has been 'lit up' by a fully automatic machine gun- it doesn't hold water! I believe the Adventist beliefs, but I definitely don't agree with the condition of the American Adventist Church. Adventism is dead in Egypt- there are MAYBE 250 Adventists in a country of 80 million people. I can see why though, if you convert to a new religion, then your family will usually kill you. That is in the Coptic religion and Islam! Students that come to NUA and want to convert to Adventism will wait until they leave Egypt to be baptized because they don't want their family to persecute, or kill, them.

Already, after two months, I am grateful for my family, my religion, and my country. Freedom is precious and oh so sweet. Be grateful.

Voting

I had the experience of a lifetime voting yesterday! Monte and I had decided that we were going to make the long two hour trip to the embassy to uphold our civil responsibility as US Citizens and so we left the school at 7:00am Eastern Time. It was a longer trip than usual because there were some issues on the metro with the train malfunctioning, so we had an extra long trip to get to the embassy. Finally, when our train arrived at the Sedat stop on the metro we jumped out and headed into the city to find the embassy. After consulting our map and arguing a little bit we found the embassy.

I would like to mention that the embassy wasn't what I expected. I was expecting a fortress with machine gun nests on top of towers and Marines with M-16's guarding the front gate. It wasn't that at all. The place was guarded by Egyptian soldiers, on the outside, and there were no intimidating towers that I could see. I think I've watched too many Hollywood movies in my lifetime and my expectations have been skewed.

We walked to the entrance of the embassy and said to the Egyptian guy waiting behind the booth that we wanted to vote. He replied, "you're too late, no vote for you." I will be honest that this upset me because it was clearly the 4th of November and last time I had checked that was when the voting was happening! So I replied trying to be polite, "I want to talk to an American about this. Where do I go?" He glared at me, I can understand why because he was insulted, and said, "go walk to the other gate."

So we trotted off to the other gate expecting to find Americans at the front, but once again we were disappointed by the sight of Egyptian staff. We asked where we were supposed to go to vote and they told us that the voting was over. We went through the same mantra and I asked, "where is an American?" They sent us further in the room and there was a Marine behind the desk and I said to myself, "FINALLY!"

We proceeded to go through the same process asking her if we could vote and she got on the phone to ask for instructions. After a few minutes she replied, "you can't vote, it is finished." At about this time a guy came up in his suit and walked right in front of us and said to the lady, while smacking his passport on the window, "I'm here to vote." She said the same thing to him that she had said to us and at this time I began to feel defeated. Then it all began.

The guy in the suit starting going off on her that "this is November 4th and today is voting day in America. This embassy is America and therefore the polls are open." She conceded and got on the phone again. This time she told us to go over to the place Monte and I had just been before.

So we walked over there, only to be greeted by our glaring Egyptian friend. I was thinking, "Oh great, it's the same guy." The guy said triumphantly to our suit wearing friend that the polls were closed and that we had to leave. Then the guy in the suit just went off on him that he had better get this situation taken care of or he was going to call CNN. The guy said, "Ok, ok I'll call the consulate." He got on the phone and then told us to go back to where we'd just come from. The guy in the suit said, "No. We just came from there. Get diplomat so and so on the phone, now."

At this point I was starting to wonder to myself, "who is this guy?!" I started asking him questions, while we waited, and it turned out that his name was Darryl John Kennedy. He has been a composer in Cairo for a few years and he knows a lot of the people in the embassy because they come to his concerts. Eventually the guy got off of the phone and said, "No, you can't vote." John said, "No we are going to vote, this embassy is America and the polls are open. Let me talk to him." Monte and I chimed in agreement.

The guy dialed the phone again and I think he actually called the ambassodor this time. He and John talked for a minute or two about "No, I can't do an absentee ballot. I travel all the time, what address will they send it to?....... Alright, thanks, please tell this guy to open the door and let us in." During this time another guy, Ahmed, an Egyptian who'd married an American and was now a citizen, came and joined our small party. At this point I was impressed, he had convinced the guy to let us in and now we were going to go vote.

We walked in, went through the security and walked to a room where we filled out our ballots. This was exciting for me, because it was my first time to vote and there was a spirit of comraderie between the four of us. We'd persevered through the beuaracracy that was denying us our right to vote and continued on. We got our ballots and helped each other fill out the sections we were unsure of by reading through the guidebook. We shared our pens between the four of us, because we only had three pens, and there was a sense of unity amongst us. We finished our voting and submitted our ballots.

As we walked away from the embassy there was a feeling of victory in the air. Our civic duty had been done and we had made our voices heard by a paper ballot. I knew that my vote wouldn't effect the electoral process because the President of the United States would be voted in long before my vote would arrive in the States, but it didn't matter to me. We had said, "No" to somebody who was trying to deny us our right to vote and had pressed on. I realize that they might not even send my vote, but, regardless, I am still a proud American citizen.